


Confidential Encounters

by kethni



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Sequel, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 22:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: Selina was no stranger to a nooner, and was very proficient at post-quickie showers. She was out and drying herself while Kent was still half-dressed. Of course, he was drinking a coffee and had made the mistake of taking a call from Ben.





	Confidential Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> For OneMoreDay with thanks for the request. 
> 
> This is a sequel to "Meme the Day."

Selina grabbed the arms of the armchair, nails digging into the thick plush, and screamed, ‘Put it over the line, big boy!’

She felt Kent pause, for a beat, and then continue. Her ankles were on his shoulders. She was tipped back. He was looking up. All she could see of his face were his lips, and the teeth gently biting down. One day she was gonna make him bite hard enough to fucking bleed.

Selina squeezed her eyes shut. Her dark, tight little world was pressing in on her, pulsing in time with his thrusts.

He grunted as he came, no screaming for him, and grabbed the top of the armchair. For a few seconds there was no sound but their breathing.

‘Will you fucking back off?’ Selina growled. ‘You’re gonna break me in half.’

‘The chair was your idea,’ he said. He lowered her feet, none too gently, turned, pulled up his pants, and headed to the bathroom.

Selina dragged herself up into a sitting position. She could hear the water running in the shower. Asshole. He could’ve let her shower first.

She made her way gingerly to the coffee maker and flipped it on. She felt like she’d spent an hour doing Pilates. Next time they’d use the bed. It was her fault. She’d got it into her head that, if they were going to fuck every afternoon, more or less, in a hotel room, then they should get use of more than the bed and the shower. Fucking against the bedroom wall had been fun; Kent had no business being able to hold her in his arms that long. On all fours had been a blast, but the carpet burns were a bitch. Everything had a cost.

She was sipping a coffee when Kent came out of the bathroom. He was completely naked and soaking wet.

‘You’re gonna ruin the carpet,’ Selina said.

‘It’s not mine.’

‘That is such a typical fucking male thing to say.’ Selina frowned. ‘What’s with the smirk?’

He shrugged. ‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘You think that worrying about the carpet is such a female thing to do?’ she demanded.

‘I certainly didn’t say that.’ He turned on the coffee maker.

Selina poked his chest. ‘It’s what you think.’

‘I think you should have a shower.’ He smiled. ‘You smell of sex, Madam Vice President, and sweat. Neither perfume is going to impress the press at your conference.’

‘I hate the press,’ she grumbled stamping towards the shower.

When you wanted the assholes, for an announcement, or a policy launch, they were nearly impossible to round up. But when everything was going to shit, and you just wanted to hide they were all over like flies on... well flies on shit.

Selina was no stranger to a nooner, and was very proficient at post-quickie showers. She was out and drying herself while Kent was still half-dressed. Of course, he was drinking a coffee and had made the mistake of taking a call from Ben.

‘Your hysteria is no use whatsoever,’ Kent was saying. ‘My cat vomiting on the windowsill is a more coherent message.’

Selina walked to the other side of the bed.

‘... if I had known that he was a CIA operative, then I would be quite concerned, yes, but I didn’t, therefore I can hardly be accused of any wrongdoing. What? Why would you do that when a person being a CIA operative is an empirical fact which _can_ be proved, and therefore _will_ be proved? Why would you lie publicly about it?’

Selina was frowning as she slipped into her dress.

‘I’m unclear what you wish me to say,’ Kent continued. ‘You screwed up? You’re incompetent? Your advice is terrible? There, there, have a kiss on the cheek and a lollipop?’

Selina stepped into her shoes.

Kent thumbed off his cell and tossed it onto the bed.

‘Who’s a spy?’ Selina asked. ‘One of the hostages? Did you let me say none of them were spies when you knew they were?’

‘Don’t listen to my conversations,’ he said.

‘Don’t have your conversation in my fucking hotel room!’

Kent pulled his shirt on. ‘I can hardly start telling you classified information on a whim.’

‘Why not? You shouted it out in a hotel room where every passing maid, horny businessman, or high-class call girl, could hear it.’

Kent put his tie on and knotted it. ‘You forgot tourists and people having affairs.’

Selina put her hands on her hips. ‘I lied to the public.’

‘Don’t be melodramatic,’ he said. ‘You said what you believed to be true.’

‘You shoulda told me!’ she snapped.

Kent narrowed his eyes. ‘I don’t owe you classified information. I don’t owe you anything.’

Selina shook her head. ‘I don’t know why you’re even here. Why you do fuck me?’

He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I like it.’ He sighed. ‘Look, POTUS is in a... godawful mess. If you want to know something, then know this: it isn’t going away, and like a drowning man POTUS will drag absolutely anyone down with him. You should divest yourself of the whole affair as much as you can.’

Selina straightened. ‘That bad? Fuck. Okay. From now on I’m staying the fuck away from talk of hostages.’

He nodded. ‘That would be wise.’

Selina gathered up her things. She headed to the door. She stopped and looked back at Kent.

‘Are you... Are you gonna get dragged down?’ she asked. ‘With the hostage stuff.’

He buttoned up his cuffs. ‘I am taking my own steps.’

***

Gary was sulking. He didn’t like it when Selina went out without him, and she was doing it all the time now. There was no way that she was having him outside while she was banging Kent. It was weird enough have her security detail there.

Gary skulked after her when she got back to her office. He took her coat as Amy marched over with Dan in tow.

‘We’re getting a lot of requests to discuss the hostage situation,’ Amy said. ‘I think one of the high-end politics shows...’

‘Soft and fluffy would be better,’ Dan insisted.

‘Yeah, we’re not doing either,’ Selina said. ‘Hostages are old hat. We’re past that.’

They stared at her.

‘Eight out of ten questions I get are about the hostages,’ Mike said.

‘They’re incredibly on trend at the moment,’ Dan said.

‘Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?’ Amy asked.

Selina threw up her hands. ‘Fine, everyone in my office. Shut the door, Gary.’’

As they found seats, Selina smacked her fist into her hand. ‘The hostage thing has gone to shit, and I need to be as far away from it as possible.’

‘What’s happened?’ Dan asked.

Selina narrowed her eyes. ‘Is it not obvious that I’m trying to avoid telling you? This is highly classified information!’

Mike waggled his cell. ‘It’s not the spy thing?’

‘What!’

‘There’s a rumour that one of the hostages is a CIA agent,’ Mike said.

‘You said that wasn’t true,’ Amy said.

‘I know what I said! ‘Selina snapped. ‘I thought it wasn’t true. I only just found out.’

‘Is the source reliable?’ Amy asked. ‘POTUS has gotta be pissed at all the positive press that you’re getting.’

‘If Mike thinks it might be true then we all know it’s probably complete bullshit,’ Dan said.

‘Hey!’

Selina held up her hand. ‘The source is reliable,’ she said. ‘But… let’s get some corroboration.’

Mike looked at his watch. ‘Jonah’s gonna be here soon.’

‘He knows even less than you do,’ Dan said.

Amy tightly folded her arms. ‘Jonah won’t know any details but if the White House is in a panic then he’ll pick up on it.’

Selina nodded. ‘Yeah. Grill Jonah. That giant windcock will know if there’s a storm blowing in.’

‘On it,’ Dan said.

Selina sat down. ‘Okay, go. Meeting over.’

Amy didn’t go out with the boys, but hovered. Waiting. Ugh.

Selina smiled pleasantly. ‘What’s up, Amy?’

‘Ma’am, I’m not sure Andrew is a reliable source of… anything.’

Selina waited for it to make sense. It still didn’t. ‘Huh? Andrew?’

Amy twisted in awkwardness. The “lunch breaks,” the new perfume, the… spring in your step.’

Selina dropped the smile. ‘Wow. Okay, Amy. Number one, I’m not fucking Andrew, number two, my private life is none of your business, and number three, I’m not fucking Andrew!’

Amy chewed her cheek. ‘You normally tell me when you’re seeing someone.’

Selina nodded her head automatically. ‘Okay, yeah, but here’s the thing, Amy, the thing is… you’re a blabbermouth.’

Amy’s eyes widened. ‘Wow, I…’

‘You told Mike I was pregnant and god knows who he told,’ Selina said. ‘You told him about the Finnish Prime Minister’s husband groping me and he told half the assholes in DC. He told Roger Furlong!’

‘He did _what_?’

Selina gave her a jaundiced look. ‘I’m not telling you Amy, because I don’t want Mike running around announcing it to the entire fucking country.’

Amy pushed back her hair. ‘But it’s not Andrew?’

‘Do you want it written in blood?’

Ben had told Selina about the titty touching expose. She’d have kicked Mike’s ass if there hadn’t been a risk that he’d blab everything. And nothing had changed, the axis of dick hadn’t smashed her into pieces. Ben hadn’t been real sympathetic, but that was because he didn’t think of her as a woman. Since Selina didn’t think of him as a man it was probably fair.

***

Selina walked out into the bullpen. Dan and Mike had Jonah trapped by Dan’s desk, while Amy was blocking the exit. They looked like the mafia. If the mafia were marginally better dressed and employed women.

‘What’s going on, Jonah?’ Selina asked.

He tugged on the hem of his vest. ‘Ma’am, your staff are being weird.’

Selina looked at them. ‘Are you being weird?’

There was a chorus of denials.

Selina shrugged. ‘You’re outvoted. Say, Jonah, how’s it all going over at the West Wing, all sunshine and roses?’

Jonah made a weird head movement that was neither a nod or a shake. ‘Hmhm, Ma’am.’

‘Hmhm?’ Selina repeated. ‘What the fuck does that mean?’

Jonah squirmed under her cold-eyed glare. ‘It... um...’

‘Jonah,’ Amy said. ‘Listen to me carefully: what is the mood in the West Wing?’

He held his nerve for a second, two seconds, and then it broke. ‘It’s awful!’ he said, sagging. ‘Mr Cafferty is running around screaming “we’re fucked” and Mr Davison keeps telling him not to be so hysterical.’

Dan shot Selina a look.

‘What’re they so upset about?’ Amy asked slowly, as if leading a child step by step.

Jonah’s big hands pin wheeled. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, then you’re completely useless, aren’t you?’ Selina jerked her thumb to the door. ‘Get trucking.’

***

‘Are the hostages –’

‘President Hughes is the best person to answer that.’ Selina said.

‘Have you spoken to the hostages –’

‘President Hughes has taken the lead with that,’ she said.

‘Was the injured marine –’

‘I’m going to have to refer to President Hughes,’ Selina said.

She came down from the podium and dropped her fixed smile. She looked at Dan. ‘Find me something else to focus on,’ Selina growled. ‘Budget, infrastructure, Medicaid, I don’t give a shit. Just divorce me from the damn hostages!’

She stomped back to her office, gathered her things, and headed back to her residence. She groaned at the sound of Catherine’s shitty pipe music. Someone, somewhere, was getting their jollies by making Selina’s life a fucking misery.

‘Hi mom,’ Catherine said. ‘You’re here early.’

‘My meeting got cancelled.’

‘What was it?’

Selina paused. ‘Who the hell can remember? If it means I can sit down and... watch a movie with my little girl tonight, then I’m all for it.’

Catherine wrapped her arms around her knees. ‘You don’t have a date?’

Selina laughed bitterly as she took off her shoes. ‘When do I have time to date?

‘Dad’s in town,’ Catherine said awkwardly. ‘I know he’d really like to catch up.’

Selina pulled a face. ‘Oh. God no, sweetie. What are you thinking?’

‘You seem lonely,’ Catherine said weakly.

Selina tilted her head. ‘Your dad put you up to this didn’t he?’

‘Um...’

Selina threw up her hands, just as her cell began to chime. ‘Shit, can you help me with this?’ she asked.

Catherine rolled her eyes as she answered the phone. ‘Hello? Hold for my mom, please.’

‘Don’t pull that face at me,’ Selina said as she took the cell. ‘Hi Kent,’ she said, walking towards the bedroom. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘Why is Catherine answering your cell?’

‘Became she’s the only one here and the Vice Rresident of the United States doesn’t answer her own phone.’ Selina sat down on the bed. ‘Is this an obscene phone call?’

‘That depends how irritated you become.’

Selina threw herself back onto the bed. ‘Great. What fucking disaster is happening now?’

‘POTUS wants to pull out of the reception for the hostages tomorrow,’ Kent said. ‘He’s going to spring it on you in the hope you’re unprepared with an excuse. If you’re unavailable he’ll send Danny Chung, but he’d much prefer you.’

Selina scowled. ‘He wants me to be the face of the administrations’ response. Fuck. I’ll have to come up with something.’

‘He’ll be angry,’ Kent warned her.

‘ _I’m_ fucking angry! Who the fuck does he think he is trying to make me as a scapegoat?’

Kent gave a dry chuckle. ‘He thinks he’s the president.’

Selina groaned. ‘Yeah. Look. Thanks. Um. Yeah. Thanks.’

There was a pause before he answered. ‘Sure,’ he said.

* * *

Selina was on her way to the airport when Jonah, huffing and puffing, caught up with her.

‘Ma’am! Ma’am!’

‘No time, Jonah,’ Amy said briskly.

‘But POTUS –’

Selina turned to face him, walking backwards, said, ‘My mom’s at death’s door,’ turned back around, and carried on walking.

Jonah doubled over, clutching his belly. ‘But POTUS!’ he whined.

Dan glanced back at him. ‘As much fun as that was, is defying POTUS a good idea?’ he murmured to Amy.

‘POTUS wants to throw me under the bus,’ Selina snapped at him. ‘I will not go fucking easy.’

***

The questions after the reception were brutal. Selina sniggered as Danny Chung flailed on screen when questioned by angry relatives as well as reporters smelling blood.

Selina sprawled back in her chair. ‘All that could’ve been mine.’

‘He’s so unprepared,’ Amy said. ‘His staff are not briefing him properly.

Dan shrugged. ‘POTUS didn’t tell him about the spy.’

‘See how much good all that golf did,’ Selina sneered.

The door was pushed open without ceremony. Selina dropped her feet down from the desk. Sue walked in looking... unsettled.

‘Ma’am, Mr Davison is here.’

Dan and Amy exchanged looks.

‘Is that bad?’ Mike asked. ‘Is POTUS mad?’

Selina threw an eraser at him. ‘Yes, it’s bad. Daddy is pissed, and he’s sent our mean big brother to yell at us.’

‘Mr Davison is right outside,’ Sue said.

‘Then you better send him in,’ Selina said.

She wasn’t sure if she should stand. Was sitting too aggressive? Or was standing too formal?

As her team left, Kent entered, shutting the door behind him.

‘Uh oh,’ Selina said. ‘Am I in trouble?’

‘POTUS is furious,’ Kent said gravely.

Selina crossed her legs. ‘Oops.’

Kent walked around the desk. ‘It’s almost as if you’re doing everything you can to disassociate yourself from the entire situation.’

‘Almost,’ she agreed. She stood up slowly. ‘Whatcha gonna do about it?’

He looked back at the door and raised his eyebrow. Selina shrugged.

‘The president is extremely angry,’ he said.

Selina unbuckled Kent’s belt. ‘Does he want me to be punished?’

‘Brutally.’

Selina licked her lips. ‘By you?’

‘You’ve been very... disobedient,’ he said, loosening his tie.

‘I suppose I have it coming.’ Selina said kicking off her shoes.

‘Doubtless it’ll hurt me more than it hurt you.’ He snapped the tie between his hands.

Selina opened her mouth and let him gag her with it.

Then he turned her around. She leaned on the desk as he pulled her dress up and her underwear down. Selina closed her eyes, but instead of a blow, he gently stroked his palm over her skin.

She growled. He shook his head sadly.

‘So impatient,’ he said, and slapped her ass lightly. Then he tied her wrists together with his belt.

Selina squeaked, but he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to brace her. She shifted from side to side slowly as he entered her. His hand was on her shoulder, holding her up, not pushing her down. The weight of his legs against hers kept her from pushing clear or squirming away.

His other hand was in front of her, his fingers dipped between her legs, circling, and caressing her clitoris.

Selina swallowed a moan. Her whole staff were outside. She couldn’t let them hear. She couldn’t let them know that she was mere feet away, bound and gagged as Kent fucked her over... over... over the... the desk...

She made a noise between a growl and a groan, sagging back against Kent. He held her tightly for a moment, and then she felt his breath against her cheek.

‘Ma’am! Is everything okay?’ Gary called.

Kent chuckled as he pulled the tie from Selina’s mouth.

‘This is a classified meeting!’ Selina bellowed.

‘Was it necessary to deafen me?’ Kent asked.

‘Is it necessary to whine?’

‘Be nice, or I won’t tell POTUS that you have no idea he lied to congress about the spy.’ He untied her hands and threaded the belt through his pants.

‘You’d do that?’ Selina put his tie around his collar and knotted it.

‘If you give me something.’

She snorted. ‘I let you fuck me, in my office, over my desk.’

Kent smoothed his hair. ‘You didn’t “let” me, you were an active and enthusiastic participant. Don’t play the sexually repressed card, Selina, it’s offensive, and more than that it doesn’t suit you.’

She put her shoes on. ‘Ugh. Fine. What do you need?’

‘A distraction,’ he said. ‘For the press. Something harmless to draw away their attention.’

Selina narrowed her eyes. ‘You want me to embarrass myself.’

‘Not at all. I don’t care if you launch a new charity, get into a Twitter fight with Taylor Swift, or discover a new species of ant, as long as it draws press attention away from this mess.’

Selina smoothed her dress. ‘I think I can do that.’

‘Excellent.’

‘And you’ll tell POTUS I was totally innocent and only wanted to visit my mom?’

Kent waggled his handed. ‘ _Needed_ to visit her. Your antipathy to your mother is sufficiently well documented to arouse suspicions.’

Selina threw herself into her chair. ‘Fine, whatever. Close the door on the way, would you?’

***

Selina tapped her foot as she looked at the dresses. She was no stranger to dramatic clothing choices, but now she was looking for a very particular message.

‘They’re very dressy,’ Amy said. ‘This is still a birthday party.’

‘Yeah, well, I want to look nice for it.’ Selina took the shimmering red dress with the plunging neckline and exaggerated fishtail and walked into her changing room. ‘Any more from the old fart brigade?’

Amy shrugged. ‘I don’t think that any of them believe you were completely in the dark about the spy.’

‘I was,’ Selina said. ‘Until I wasn’t. I’m so sick of this goddamn conversation. Not _this_ conversation. The “did I know about the spy” conversation.’

Amy shrugged. ‘If the president lied to congress then we’re looking at a possible impeachment. We don’t have the house.’

Selina made a disappointed sound. ‘We don’t have the house, but they don’t enough of a majority to impeach. I’m not that lucky.’ She stepped out of her changing room. ‘What d’you think?’

Amy nodded. ‘It’s... a dress alright. Maybe a little high energy for the party?’

‘Is there press outside?’

‘Sure, some.’

‘Then it’s exactly as energetic as I need,’ Selina said. She narrowed her eyes at Amy. ‘This is nothing to do with Andrew.’

Amy clicked her pen. ‘I didn’t mention Andrew.’

Selina waved a hand at Amy. ‘It was written all over your face.’

‘Not about Andrew,’ Amy said. ‘Got it.’

***

Selina looked at herself in the mirror. She had celebrated agreeing the budget with just a _squinch_ too much champagne, and then she celebrated Catherine’s birthday with another glass. Or two. But fuck it, she worked hard. She worked hard and looked great, damn it. She sauntered out of the rest room, tripped over her heels, and grabbed onto a secret service guy for balance.

‘Mom, I think you should go home,’ Catherine said.

‘You’re right,’ Selina said.

Catherine hesitated. ‘Really? I thought you’d argue or something.’

Selina smiled sweetly. ‘Nope. Gonna go home and sleep, because I have been working very hard.

‘Shall I come with you?’ Andrew offered. ‘Make sure you get home?’

‘Dad, she has a security detail!’

Selina pulled Andrew down to whisper into his ear. ‘I would rather go home with a rabid dog!’ She let go of him and patted Catherine’s shoulder vaguely. ‘Okay, goodnight.’

She was feeling good as she lost the party. Maybe a little dizzy, but it had been warm inside. She’d feel fine in a few minutes… Yup. Selina leaned back in the car, and kicked off her shoes.

‘The residence. Ma’am?’

Selina smiled. ‘No, I’ve got a much better idea.’

***

She should have probably put her shoes on before she walked to the door. It was a little chilly, but fuck it. She squinted up at the house. Lights were on. Awesome. She knocked on the door a couple times, then got impatient and used the palm of her hand.

‘Ow,’ she whined, and shook her hand.

The door was opened, and Kent leaned against the doorjamb.

‘Selina?’

‘Hey,’ she said. ‘You gonna let a girl in?’

He looked her up and down slowly and stepped back. Selina sauntered inside the house. It was a lot more old-fashioned and cluttered than she’d have guessed. There were tons of paintings and statutes, and the chunky rugs were covered in swirling patterns. There was an overstuffed couch with large, fluffy pillows.

‘Two of those have tails,’ Selina said, pointing.

‘Those are my cats,’ Kent said.

Selina flexed her toes. ‘I always figured you were a fan of pussy.’

Kent laughed slightly. ‘Why don’t you sit in one of the chairs and I’ll make us a coffee?’

Selina played with the buttons of his shirt. ‘You can make something a little harder.’

He caught her hand and gently squeezed her fingers. ‘I think it’s little late for that. Why don’t you sit down?’

Selina rolled her eyes. ‘Why do you keep telling me to sit down?’

‘Because you look like you’re going to fall down.’ Kent moved towards the kitchen. ‘Not on one of my cats, please.’

Selina grumbled to herself as she sat down. ‘This isn’t how a booty call is supposed to go,’ she called to Kent.

‘Perhaps not,’ he said, looking around the door at her. ‘But I suspect that it happens more often than not.’

‘Not to me.’

***

‘You were so drunk, how are you not hung over?’ Catherine asked.

Selina looked at her over her breakfast. ‘I was a little relaxed, that’s all. Also, years of DC assholes trying to drink me under the table have trained me.’ She had a slight headache, and had woken up with a bad taste in her mouth. Nothing all that notable. She wouldn’t even call it a hangover.

‘Don’t even talk to me about you ruining my party,’ Catherine continued.

‘I wasn’t going to,’ Selina said.

Catherine gave her a dark look. ‘You remember you promised to take me out tonight to make it up to me?’

Selina poked her cereal. ‘I wasn’t black out drunk, Catherine. Jeez.’

‘Just don’t get drunk again, please,’ Catherine asked.

Selina sipped her coffee. ‘Cross my heart.’

There was a tap on the door, and Gary wandered in.

‘Good morning,’ Gary said.

Catherine pulled a face, put her dishes by the sink, and slumped out of the room.

Selina waved a hand at Gary. ‘Do you have the news?’

‘There are some fabulous pictures of you in your dress last night!’ he cooed. He waved his hand. ‘Mostly they’re talking about the budget thing.’

Selina flicked through the newspaper app on the tablet. ‘This is good. I don’t see anything about the spy thing.’

Gary nodded and said nothing.

Selina looked at him suspiciously. ‘What?’ she asked.

‘Um.’

‘Gary, what?’

He cleared his throat. ‘Those meme things...’ he muttered.

‘Show me,’ she demanded.

Gary reddened as he looked them up. ‘They’re a little disrespectful.’

It was the plunging red dress that had done it. Between that and the heels she’d really made a slam dunk.

‘Is emphasising the “vice” in vice president supposed to be clever?’ Selina asked. ‘It’s literally my title, and it’s not like I’m a hooker.’

The rest of the memes were shots of her in the dress emblazoned with schoolboy level sex jokes. It was pretty early in the morning so maybe Kent was working up to the good memes.

Well, he’d wanted her to do something to distract a little attention.

Thankfully none of the photographs were of her sloppy drunk. She wasn’t ashamed of getting drunk. Why the fuck should she be? She worked stupidly hard under incredibly stupid amount of stress. She _deserved_ to kick back once in a while and she wasn’t going to apologise for it.

She sure as fuck wasn’t going to apologise for going to see Kent. What was with the bullshit sending her home because she was drunk? She wasn’t _that_ drunk. She’d known what she wanted. God, the last think she expected from him was that he’d play the “gentleman” card.

Selina drummed her fingers on the table. Assuming that was why. Maybe he just had a problem with ladies getting drunk. Plenty of asshole men thought some weird shit about how they thought women “should” behave.

She enjoyed banging Kent: it was intense, exciting, and satisfying. He didn’t ask anything from her and he hadn’t gotten weirdly possessive. They hadn’t even vaguely discussed other people. For all she knew he might’ve been seeing half the female staffers in D. C. Or female lobbyists. The woman with the pink brief case he’d taken to a hotel had been a lobbyist. Maybe he’d been seeing her all this time. Hell, maybe she’d been upstairs in his bedroom while Selina was making her booty call. That made more sense, right? It was only a wonder that he hadn’t invited Selina upstairs for a threesome.

‘This is weird.’ Amy said. ‘We know the memes are coming from Kent’s office. Why are they suddenly complimentary?’

Dan shrugged. ‘It’s nothing personal. The memes are a smokescreen. We’re lucky you were looking so... glamorous, Ma’am. Kent can only work with what he’s given. If you fall over then the memes call you a bumbler. If you go out looking sexy...’

‘Lucky,’ Amy said. ‘Huh.’

‘I’m taking Catherine out to dinner tonight,’ Selina said. ‘To make it up to her. We need to make sure I’m sexy, instead of falling over.’

Gary brightened. ‘Ooh, you could wear the strapless blue ball gown.’

Dan smirked. ‘A ball gown to a family dinner?’

Selina held up her hands. ‘I’m thinking my black mini-dress with the scoop neckline and no jacket.’

‘You’ll freeze,’ Amy said. ‘That dress has enough material for... Mike’s tie.’

‘But I’ll look amazing,’ Selina said. ‘Come on, Amy, you know how this works.’

‘Maybe one of us can carry your jacket in,’ Mike suggested. ‘The photographers will all be outside, and they won’t be looking at us so...’

‘Yes! Practical thinking,’ Selina said. ‘Which is so fucking weird from you, Mike.’

***

Catherine was tapping her foot as Selina joined her at the restaurant entrance.

‘You don’t want to go back and pose some more?’ Catherine asked tartly. ‘Maybe flash them a couple times.’

Selina put her hand on her hip. ‘Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you get to be disrespectful, young lady.’

‘It was my birthday yesterday,’ Catherine said.

‘Whatever, we’re talking about respect,’ Selina said. ‘If you don’t respect me then how’re you going to respect yourself?’

‘I was only –’

Selina pushed open the restaurant inner door. ‘Remember, sweetie, self-respect is the foundation of a strong personality,’ she said walking into the restaurant. She didn’t have to see Catherine’s face to know she was thinking something snarky.

It was one of the things they always disagreed about. Catherine was almost aggressively dowdy as if she thought some value in looking like someone’s depressed grandma. She seemed to suspect that Selina dressing up attractively somehow bought into “patriarchal patterns of oppression.” Hey, Selina had been fighting patriarchal asshats all her career, and if Catherine’s brand of “feminism” meant you couldn’t look good doing it, then Selina wanted no part of it.

But she was relieved as fuck when Mike handed her the jacket.

***

It was Catherine’s expression that tipped Selina off.

‘What’s he doing here?’ Catherine demanded.

Selina turned to see Kent walking towards them.

‘I have no idea,’ she said.

‘Ugh. He’s not going to make us sky-dive home, is he?’ Andrew asked. ‘I’m not dressed for it.’

Kent was wearing a dark purple silk shirt, open collar, and a black suit. Although his sudden presence pretty much guaranteed bad news, he did at least look great doing it.

‘Is POTUS dead?’ Selina asked.

‘No.’

‘This is a private, family dinner that’s supposed to make up for my mom’s work hijacking my birthday party last night!’ Catherine protested.

Kent gave her a pinched look. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘Um, thank you.’

‘Could we talk?’ he said to Selina.

She shrugged, and followed him across the room to an empty table.

‘If this is your idea of a booty call then you need practice.’

Kent raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m sober at least.’

‘That’s your first mistake,’ Selina said. She folded her arms. ‘What do you want?’

‘I thought you should know that POTUS is vetoing your budget agreement,’ he said.

Selina’s eyes bulged. ‘What? Why would he do that?’

Kent leaned on the table. ‘I believe the rationale is that it will distract from the spy scandal.’

‘He’s tanking the economy!’ Selina slapped her hand to her forehead. ‘This is some scorched-earth bullshit, Kent. Why would you think it was a good idea?’

‘I don’t.’

‘But distraction is your idea.’ Selina said. ‘I’m here with my tits and cooter temping fate because _you_ wanted a distraction.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘A very effective and essentially harmless distraction. If I thought that you might burn down the Eisenhower Building, then I wouldn’t have suggested a distraction.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Although you are quite likely to do something thoughtless and foolish –’

‘Hey!’

‘ – you are extremely unlikely to do anything desperate and destructive,’ Kent explained. ‘I could trust you. I cannot trust POTUS.’

Selina lowered her voice. ‘Things are that bad?’

Kent nodded.

She tapped her foot. ‘It’s not just a distraction. He’s trying to throw me under the bus.’

‘Quite possibly,’ Kent said.

Selina blinked. ‘Jesus. I didn’t expect you to agree.’

Kent leaned closer. ‘Selina, things are serious. President Hughes is flailing. He’s on the cusp of agreeing to not seek a second term as it’s the only way that the party will agree to block his impeachment.’

‘Wow.’ Selina blew out her cheeks. ‘This is secret?’

‘You cannot tell anyone,’ Kent said firmly.

Selina nodded, trying to look nonchalant. ‘Gotcha.’

***

God, the shutdown was all so boring and squalid. Selina had a lot of complaints about being the VP, but “boring” wasn’t normally one of them. There was no other reason she’d have ended up watching the news with Ben, who was day drinking.

Of course, Kent would disapprove. After he left the room, Selina made an excuse and followed him. Normally there would be literally hundreds of people in the West Wing, now there were a handful. It was eerie.

‘Hey,’ Selina said, catching up with him. ‘Was forgetting your ear buds seriously the best excuse you could think of?’

He pursed his lips. ‘As I’m not a politician, I don’t have anywhere near as much experience of making excuses as you.’

‘Really?’ Selina asked. ‘I’d have thought being decades older than me and having such terrible social skills you’d have plenty of experience.’

‘Ah, I see why you’re confused,’ Kent said. ‘You’re mistaking a failure to flatter and cosset your fragile ego with poor social skills.’

Selina nodded. ‘Pretty sure you’re mistaking an inability to connect with other human beings as a mark of integrity.’

A muscle twitched in Kent’s cheek. ‘Did you want something?’

Selina glanced around, but the few people around were nowhere near them.

‘You being furloughed is totally fucking up my R&R,’ she said. ‘Why the hell are you not essential staff?’

‘Advisors and consultants are all classified as non-essential,’ he said. ‘It’s annoying, however it does infer less responsibility for presidential decisions which at the moment is not a bad thing.’

‘Don’t tell the lobbyists,’ Selina said. ‘None of the cute lady lobbyists will want to bump uglies with you.’

He looked at her blankly for a moment. ‘Do you mean Amber?’

‘Sure, yeah.’

Kent raised an eyebrow. ‘If it’s somehow important, you might like to know I’ve never slept with any other lobbyist.’

‘She’s just that special, huh?’ Selina asked. ‘Pussy tastes of candy and her tits squirt whipped cream?’

‘That is a profoundly disturbing image,’ Kent said. ‘But no. Amber tastes quite normal. You have been known to sleep with Andrew. Sleeping with a former marriage partner is common enough to be a cliché.’

Selina hesitated. ‘She’s your ex?’

‘Yes, and much as with yourself and Andrew, the temptation once indulged is often more regretted than enjoyed.’

Selina cocked her head. ‘You’re making a lot of assumptions.’

‘Not at all,’ Kent said. ‘You can be spectacularly indiscreet.’

‘Fuck you!’ she snapped.

‘Isn’t that why you’re accosting me in the middle of the West Wing?’ he asked, bright eyed.

‘You’d like that wouldn’t you?’

Kent smirked at her. ‘You came running after _me,_ Selina. You stopped _me_. What _you’d_ like is far more pertinent a question.’  

Selina tapped her foot. ‘Every minute you keep talking is a minute that we could be banging in an office.’

‘That’s true,’ Kent said. ‘However, legally I shouldn’t be here at all.’

‘Ship already sailed on that,’ Selina said, ‘and it’s not like you’re gonna be working.’

She grabbed his hand and pulled him, not into an office but a stationery storage room. He kicked the door shut as she yanked out his belt and tugged at his flies.

‘How do you wanna do this?’ Kent asked, pulling up her dress.

Selina looked around the tiny room. ‘Over the table.’

‘Sure.’ He kissed her. One hand in her hair and the other on her face. The kissing was a recent innovation. He was good at it, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

Selina stepped back, pulling him with her, until she felt the edge of the table press against her thighs. She moved his hands down to her breasts, and felt him chuckle.

‘Something funny?’ she panted, sliding her hand into his pants.

‘Merely admiring your directedness and willingness to insist on what you want.’

‘You wouldn’t laugh if I was a guy.’ Selina closed her eyes.

‘If a man requested I caress his chest, then yes, I imagine amusement wouldn’t be my immediate response,’ he muttered.

Selina sniggered. ‘You know what I meant.’

Kent knelt in front of her. ‘Can you lean back a little?’

‘Sure.’ She leaned back on her hands. She crossed her legs basely around the back of his neck. It wasn’t a comfortable position, but that was only important to a tiny squared off piece of herself somewhere in the distance. The rest of her was breathing fast and hard, heat rising from her skin, as she tipped back her face.

Then he stood up, turned her around, pushed her over the table, and slid inside her.

Selina grabbed the far edge of the table as her feet left the ground. She caught her breath.

His body was pressed against hers. The heat of it burned through her clothes. Selina keened softly as she came, and whined as he bit her shoulder.

‘Asshole,’ she muttered. ‘That hurts.’

‘A moment.’

She almost fell forward when he stepped back, but just found her footing. Selina tugged up her underwear before she turned around. There were red welts across her thighs from where she’d pressing against the table.

‘Next time we’re doing it on a bean bag,’ she said.

‘You always assume there’s going to be a next time,’ he said.

Selina smirked. ‘That’s because there always is.’


End file.
